Tales of the Queendom of Maadre
Table of Contents
Tales of the Queendom of Maadre | Barbara G.Tarn
The Death of Queen Amazonia | Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
The Public Man
Doreen
Amazons' Men
Uncommon Amazons
The Queen's Son
Jessamine | 1. Notturno
2. Keldar
3. Massimo
Aknowledgments
The Tiger
The Painter
Author's note
Acknowledgments
About the author
Further Reading: Amazon Sisters
Also By Barbara G.Tarn
Tales of the Queendom of Maadre
Barbara G.Tarn
***
Index
The Death of Queen Amazonia
The Public Man
Doreen
Amazons' Men
Uncommon Amazons
The Queen's Son
Jessamine
The Tiger
The Painter
Author's note and About
The Death of Queen Amazonia
Chapter 1
"Welcome, Kyrio. I was really hoping you'd show up."
Kyrio smiled as Rossella let him into her shop. She was a famous jeweler and one of his favorite customers in spite of being a woman and a Daughter of Amazonia. He had known her for years, bringing his goods to Maadre for her at least once a year.
Rossella was middle-aged, but still possessed a regal beauty that reminded Kyrio of his own mother. Rossella's thick braid of hair was still as black as ravens' wings, and her fleshy lips curved into a smile at the sight of the stash of white and black pearls he put on her table.
She took her pick one by one and paid him with golden goddesses, then asked him if he wanted something to drink. He accepted a lemonade – as the day was hot outside, although the thick walls of the house kept the shop cool – and she signaled her own son to bring it.
Kyrio openly stared at the dark-haired young man who brought the tray with the drinks while keeping his eyes low. The submission of men in the Queendom of Maadre still puzzled him even after all these years.
"So, how's business?" Rossella asked, relaxing in her Artisan's chair.
"I'm not complaining," he answered. "Although it's quite lonely to come to Maadre, leaving my crew on the coast."
"If you accepted women onboard, you could have company," Rossella said, amused. That was an old argument between them. There had been a time when she had tried to set him up with her daughter until he had explained to her where he stood. "And you know you're allowed here only because of your mother, may the Goddess bless her soul."
"She took me as her assistant when I was thirteen to pass me her business," Kyrio replied. "My sisters never wanted to travel much, so she relied on her firstborn. You don't need to take her place now that she's gone, you know?"
"I know," Rossella smiled. "You were her favorite son and she loved you dearly. I thought you were lost when she died – until I discovered you were not."
Kyrio chuckled. "My mother might have come from an island in the ocean, but she knew how to raise her children. And having married a foreigner, she had a man to help her educate us."
"Sometimes I wonder what you could actually teach us," Rossella teased. "According to our Queen, you're the most useless beings of the world."
"Your Queen is a little strange," he commented with a shrug.
"You're right, and we don't like some of the things she's doing to our men."
"Like treating them like animals?"
"Some say she's being a little too... rough on her lovers, lately."
"Not to mention the Fall Sacrifice. I mean, you're not the only ones who do human sacrifices, but virgin men... that's a first."
Rossella nodded, thoughtful. "Remember when we bartered that big black pearl with a necklace for your sister's wedding?"
Kyrio grinned. "Karalee still wears it today," he assured. "I'm curious to see what you've done with the previous batch."
She showed him what she had left – not much, considering one year had gone by and she had sold most of it. She was now working on a headpiece for the Queen herself and needed more pearls and other gems to finish it.
"Does the Queen pay well?" he asked, curious. His interactions with the Daughters of Amazonia, like the Maadrians liked to call themselves, were very limited. He was of the wrong sex – men had no voice in the Queendom of Maadre – and he was tolerated only because he was a foreign merchant. Their rules didn't apply completely to him, since he could go out in his clothes rather than covered head to toe with the Modesty Cloth, and was allowed to speak, providing he was respectful.
Rossella shrugged. "She's the Queen."
"She doesn't pay," he deduced. "Is it true she's well over a century?"
"Almost one hundred and seventy," Rossella confirmed, serious. "She buried seven generations of daughters. Princess Irene is now too old to be queen, and her daughter, Laurisa despairs as much as her that she will ever sit on the Queen's throne."
Kyrio was impressed. "I wonder what kind of spell keeps her this young and healthy. She hasn't changed since I first set foot here with my mother some twenty years ago."
"She's the daughter of the Goddess," Rossella said as if it were obvious. "Yes, Queen Amazonia made the Queendom of Maadre strong and powerful by annexing all the tribes of the land. But she's slowly losing her mind since her mother left the country almost a century ago."
"I guess your Goddess is your greatest mystery," he said, thoughtful. "Anyway, thank you for your purchase, I hope to bring more next year."
"Why don't you stay a couple of days?" Rossella suggested. "There's the Summer Solstice Celebration this week, and the Queen is pregnant, so she won't get out of the palace."
"Really?" Kyrio smiled. "Well, in that case, I'd gladly stay for a couple of nights. Any inn you'd recommend?"
***
Kyrio saw the dancer at the Temple of the Goddess and couldn't take his eyes off of him. The dancer was well-built, with brown hair curling up at the nape of his neck, and moved as he were boneless, following the rhythm of the summer song.
Breathless, Kyrio tried to imagine what was hidden under the baggy pants. The young man seemed so nimble – what would it be like to have him in his bed?
Unable to let go, he followed the group of dancers to a house on the other side of the main square. A Public House – a male brothel in that country where men counted less than women. He might be able to buy the dancer's services after all.
He hesitated as lust stirred his veins. He wanted to see the young man up close, discover the color of his eyes...
He knocked boldly on the front door. As a foreign merchant, he was due some respect, and his purse was full of local coins after the deal with Rossella. He even had some pearls left.
The woman who came to open the door must be the owner, but Kyrio had also seen her dance inside the temple and lead the small group back – the men hidden under Modesty Cloths, the women with their sleeveless tunics. It was uncommon that the owner of the house answered the door, but not unheard of.
"May the Goddess be with you," Kyrio greeted with a half bow. "I was wondering if I could have a private performance from one of your dancers."
A little puzzled, she let him in. The main room had triclinia set around the walls for guests and precious carpets on the stone floor �
�� aristocratic furniture for the wealthy customers, although all women could buy a man's services in a Public House. This woman must be well-off, maybe she had wealth of her own. Curtains hid doors to the rest of the house and windows brought in the light of day.
She pointed him at a triclinium and lay down on the next one, pondering.
"It is unusual to see a man, albeit a foreigner, in this place," she said at last, studying him. Her eyes glanced at the tribal tattoo on his left bicep as she took in his sleeveless jacket and tight-fitting pants.
Kyrio sat on the triclinium, but wasn't used to reclining. "My name is Kyrio, from the Lekisha Kingdom. I'm a merchant, I trade mostly in pearls and jewelry. My mother came from an island where pearls grow as big as chickpeas and sometimes black pearls show up in the midst. My father has a mansion in the mountains that border with the Tattoo Country. This is not my first visit to Maadre, but it's certainly the first time I've been able to attend the Summer Festival and admire the traditional dances preparing your people for tonight's feast."
The woman nodded. "You are welcome, Kyrio. My name is Melania and I'm an Artist. I often perform at public ceremonies with my group of dancers. Which one has captured your attention? I assume it wasn't myself."
"No, although you're probably as good as him," he replied. "I believe he is your partner in dances, though, as you were often in his strong arms."
Melania giggled. "That would be Smeraldo, then."
"Where did he get his name from?" he asked.
"His eyes," she answered, her smile slowly vanishing. "Smeraldo is retired, though. He does not perform in this house anymore."
"But he still lives here."
"Yes. He's the son of an Aristocrat, but he showed some talent for dance, so I took him in a long time ago. He's lived here most of his life, and performed for years, both with the Dancers of the Goddess and as Public Man. But, like I said, he's retired now. I don't know how I managed to convince him to dance with me again for the Festival."
"Does he still dance for you as well?" Kyrio asked, frantically searching for another way to get closer to the gorgeous dancer. Those castes so clearly defined were both helpful and confusing. Men being properties, they could be bought like animals. It seemed he had found someone who considered the gorgeous dancer a person, though.
She stared at him before answering. "Yes. But what is it that you want from him exactly?"
Kyrio took a deep breath. He had learned long ago it was better to say the truth upfront. "I want to touch him," he said, looking Melania in the eyes. "I want to make love to him. I will keep my clothes on, so he will be in no danger at any time."
Melania smiled briefly. "Is that allowed in the Lekisha Kingdom?"
"Not really," he admitted. "But on my mother's island love is freely given, no matter the sex of the other person. And I've long known I prefer men."
"Must be tough," she said, amused. "I've heard of a tradition called marriage out there."
He grinned. "True. Most so-called civilized kingdoms have that rule. But I've taken after my mother, who took me everywhere with her when I was much younger – until she was too sick to travel. And my father gave up trying to impose a wife on me long before he passed away."
She giggled again. He liked her. Not the way he liked – no, lusted after – Smeraldo, but she was a very sweet Daughter of Amazonia. Those women were renowned for their harshness, but this wasn't Melania's case. She might even be Rossella's daughter, based on her kindness and dark-haired beauty.
"So, will you call him so I can touch him?" Kyrio dared to ask. "Please set a price, I'd love to spend one night with him, but if that's not possible, one hour would do. I'll pay a golden goddess for one hour with him." That was a lot of money for one hour, but he thought the dancer was worth it.
Melania's smile vanished again and she averted her eyes. "Like I said, Smeraldo doesn't perform anymore. He spent a couple of months with our Queen, which left him... crippled."
"I couldn't tell, from the way he dances," he commented, puzzled.
She scoffed. "He's talented, but I was aware he wasn't at his best today. After a three-month break, you can't be at the top." She straightened her back, looking towards one of the doors. "Moro! Fetch Smeraldo, please!"
She must be a very good mistress to the men of the house – unlike the Queen. Kyrio had heard about Amazonia's sexual urges and how she often ended up killing her lovers. Her legendary longevity made her stronger than any man, apparently. Kyrio had no wish to meet her.
"I've heard the Queen is not attending the ceremonies because she's pregnant," he said. "Would that be Smeraldo's doing?"
Melania smiled ruefully. "So to speak."
"How old is he?"
"Twenty-two. He has worked in this house before, doing Rites or pleasing women, but since he came back from the palace..." She shook her head, averting her eyes. "It would be cheating you out of your money for naught, I'm afraid."
A little puzzled, Kyrio didn't insist. He wasn't going to ruin his chances with useless prodding.
Melania offered him a lemonade, and then the dancer came into the room. He knelt by Melania's triclinium and sat on his heels, bowing his head in submission. He reminded Kyrio of a half-naked god sculpted in one of Lekisha's temples.
"Smeraldo, this foreigner here would like to make love to you," Melania said gently.
Startled, Smeraldo looked at her, then at Kyrio. Gray-green eyes, no wonder he was called Smeraldo. Maybe in the sunlight he had emerald eyes.
Breathless with the closeness, Kyrio could only nod with a reassuring smile. Melania must really care for the dancer if she asked him instead of ordering him around like so many women did in Maadre.
Smeraldo looked at Melania again, his face frowning in worry.
"You will not be forced, Smeraldo," she assured. "I'm asking you. Do you want him to touch you or not?"
Smeraldo hung his head.
Beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful young man, please, say yes! Oh, one hour, one night – will never be enough! I must buy you and take you away from here, where I can seduce you and make you my faithful lover...
Kyrio waited, his heart beating faster. Smeraldo was so beautiful, so perfect – but also so damaged. Kyrio could see it now – Amazonia had indeed crippled the dancer.
Slowly, Smeraldo nodded. He didn't look convinced, though.
"As you can see, the Queen stole his voice and she also rendered him impotent." Melania turned to look at Kyrio. "Women cannot touch him, but maybe a man can help him. Although one hour or one night might not be enough to get through. I'd feel like I'd given you damaged goods."
"I see now it won't be as easy as I expected," Kyrio said. "I cannot force myself on someone so obviously hurt. How about I take him with me for a year and work on healing him? Twelve months. When I bring him back, if he speaks again, I keep him; if not, he's all yours again."
Melania pondered. "But you must bring him back, so I can see if you have healed him," she said.
"Of course," he assured. "I come to Maadre once a year for business. My customers would hate it if I didn't show up."
"Who do you have business with?"
"Rossella the jeweler, mostly." He fished in his purse and took two small black pearls and one big white. He offered them to Melania. "Here is the deposit. I'll come back for it. Unless he's healed, in which case you get to keep the pearls as refund for your loss. Which means you can't sell them before a year."
Melania hesitated very briefly before taking the pearls. "I'll ask Rossella to make a necklace with them," she said. "Bring him back healed and I'll wear it proudly. Bring him back as he is and you'll have a jewel to resell."
"Fine with me," he said with a nod.
She sighed, sat up, and leaned towards Smeraldo. "I'll miss you, Smeraldo," she said, caressing his cheek. "But when you'll come back, the Queen will have forgotten you."
Smeraldo sniffled. Tears ran down his cheeks, but he didn't move.
Melania kissed h
is forehead. "Go now," she whispered, tousling his brown curls. "This good man will take care of you."
Kyrio wanted to hold the dancer and cuddle him, but he knew it wasn't the right time. He had twelve months to get to Smeraldo's heart, and he had always been a patient man.
Chapter 2
Smeraldo was a little surprised when his new master told him he could take off the Modesty Cloth. Being a hot summer, he was quite happy to comply after four days on a barge, headed for the sea where Kyrio's ship awaited.
"Saved you from the insects in the jungle, but there are no insects at sea," Kyrio explained as they reached the sea harbor.
Smeraldo remembered the sound of the luxuriant jungle they had glided through, although most animal calls were unknown to him. He had packed his few belongings and said good-bye to Maadre, knowing Melania had sent him away to spare him another stay at the palace, but in spite of his natural curiosity, his heart was melancholic about what was left behind and terrified by what lay ahead – especially the relationship with the new master, who had made quite clear what he wanted from him.
During the four days on the barge, Smeraldo had felt the man's dark eyes on him, but now that he was free of the Modesty Cloth, he blushed at the open admiration in his master's eyes.
Now that the lace of the Modesty Cloth didn't limit his view, he dared to have a better look at Kyrio. The foreigner was taller than him and slightly older, with a dark tattoo on his bicep that looked like a strange face. He traveled half-naked, as he didn't have to wear the Modesty Cloth, and had a golden armband on the right arm and golden earrings under his black, shoulder-length hair.
Smeraldo followed Kyrio onto his ship where sailors displayed two rectangular sails, shouting their welcome in a foreign tongue. The ship was medium-sized compared to Amazonia's trireme around them and had a hull for cargo with room for a couple of small cabins. Feeling the wind on his face was a strange sensation, and the smell of the sea was intoxicating.
Kyrio pushed him towards a brown-haired man about his age, ordering him to accompany the guest below deck. Guest, not slave or servant. And he had spoken Amazonia's dialect. Strange.